Page 58 of Beauty and the Beard

His flirty smile returns, and I notice how he appears less like a city dweller today. With a quick perusal, I take in the new running shoes, nothing fancy, but he definitely bought them here. They go well with his cutoff jean shorts that show more skin than denim and his t-shirt is a plain white tee. But the ball cap he sets on his head is also new and my heart soars with the hope that this is his first attempt to blend in with the locals.

“Good. I look forward to it.” He leans in and presses up on his toes to kiss my cheek. “See you later, Leaf.”

He hikes his backpack up on his shoulder and leaves me standing there, staring after one of the many layers of Sasha.

Slumping back in the desk chair, I return to my organizing and paper piling. Stapling and stacking in the boxes next to me. After my third paper cut and another bandage, I yank open the desk drawer and shove around the contents until I find the business card I hoped was still there.

Dialing the number from the cordless phone in the office, I pace while waiting for the call to be picked up.

“Evergreen Communications, how can I help you?”

“Uh, hi. This is Leaf Attwater at Maple Mountain Lodge. You dropped by a few years ago to talk about internet and cell service and… well, I never called you back. Is it still an option?”

“If I remember, you pushed me out the front door and said your system was fine as is. But of course it’s still an option. In fact, there’s a better option now. When can I come by to do an assessment?”

“As soon as you can would be preferable.”

“That’s a mighty big change in attitude, but I’ll be there Friday afternoon if that works?”

“It will work just fine. Thank you.”

After confirming numbers and information, I stand there staring out the tiny office window for a long time. Friday works. It will give me something to focus on when Sasha walks out of my life.

All I can hope is that it won’t be forever.

Chapter 17

Sasha

My time here is almost up, and it’s passed in a blur. Or does it just seem that way because I’m not ready to go back?

Back to the reality of a boring new life as a student and, hopefully, an entrepreneur. But not until I deal with the nastiness of Moe and finally putting that to rest. Every time I have to see him in court, it sends me into such a tailspin. My fear is that I might take longer to bounce back this time.

Until that question is answered, I won’t lay it at Leaf’s feet. I just hope he understands why.

And Roman was wrong.

I found a book today about how to love. Well, kind of. Self-help books are just as plentiful as the swoony romances I lose myself in. While they give me an escape and a hope that one day I’ll find my prince charming, they don’t really help me work toward the problem I keep avoiding.

My long-time therapist always tells me I have to work on believing I’m worthy and to continue being myself no matter what. But ever since Moe brainwashed me into believing I wasonly good for sex and posing in front of a camera, my sense of self disappeared. Buried so deep, even a cadaver dog can’t find it.

I spent years drifting from man to man with the belief I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t smart enough or worthy of anything that even resembled love. The only love I knew and trusted was my mother’s, and she wasn’t here to help. Nor could a mother’s love compare to the love of a romantic partner.

But it was something. A small thread to remember what it felt like to be loved just as I was. That thread was getting shorter as more time passed. I was slipping away.

I came here to find the part of me that was missing. The confidence that I was capable and deserving of anything good. And to be fair, I owed it to myself to try all the things I’d been told I couldn’t do. Without the fear of repercussions. There were no contracts to lose or people to disappoint. It’s just me, and I need this.

Stepping onto the porch, I settle on the swing and crack the spine of a book I hope might help. Therapy has been great, but it’s not like I can walk around with my therapist to reassure me I’m a good person and deserve good things. The answer is likely not in this book either, but it’s a start.

A pair of chipmunks chirp and chase each other in front of the tiny porch. They chase each other in circles around a tree before diving into the bushes nearby. A moment later, one emerges with a peanut lodged in its cheeks and, unbidden, I laugh out loud. The chipmunk startles and, with its full cheeks, it scampers off into the brush again.

“I like that sound.”

Leaf stands at the edge of the path leading to my cabin, hands in his pockets and looking oh so damn perfect with his rolled-up sleeves and faded jeans. It’s the middle of July. How he always wears jeans, I can’t understand. Must be something lumberjack-ish.

“The chipmunks? Yeah, they’re cute.”

“No, your laugh.” He steps closer until he stands at the bottom of the porch steps. “And your face when you let it out when you thought no one was watching.”

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